


Gospel

by FormaStand



Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: M/M, Post-Canon, really really god awful sad and depressing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-18
Updated: 2013-11-18
Packaged: 2018-01-01 23:36:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1049924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FormaStand/pseuds/FormaStand
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A promise seems so lovely when it's new.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gospel

A promise seems so lovely when it’s new.

Aoba told Clear he would live his life to the fullest together with him, and Clear didn’t think he’d ever been so happy. He wanted to sing Aoba to sleep every night and kiss him awake in the mornings. He wanted to lay his head in Aoba’s lap and hear his breathing and his soft humming as he listened to music while he read.  He wanted to travel the world with him and see all the wonders it had to offer and then at each one tell Aoba that he was still more beautiful. He wanted, he wanted, he wanted.

And so, in the beginning, they do those things. They go to France on holiday and stay in a dusty room above a sleepy cafe for next to nothing using Aoba’s savings and what Clear could make from singing on the street. Someimtes they stand together naked on the veranda and watch the sun rise after staying up all night. The only way they survive at all in public is the fact that Clear is programmed to speak any language. It is a bit of an awkward reminder of his nature, but it keeps them in food and directions to landmarks, so neither complains.

They go to Germany and Noiz puts them up in a high class hotel on the condition that they have to leave the room at least once a week to see him. Clear just laughs at the request, while Aoba’s face lights red with embarrassment and irritation.

The room is beautiful and pristine when they arrive. By only three days from the start of their visit chairs are tipped, empty cups of ramen and takeout boxes are set on the table by the window, the bed has been dissected and they are covered by only a sheet while they sleep; legs tangled and Clear nestled firmly against Aoba’s back, face in his long hair and lips almost touching the nape of his neck. Aoba wakes up one morning to find Noiz standing over them with a a trash bag and a flat look on his face. They only stay for two weeks.

Time passes in a blur, and before he knows it, years have somehow passed Clear by. He suddenly notices the crows feet next to Aoba’s eyes, the way the smile lines around his mouth are just a bit deeper than before. He wears his hair short now, has a more stable job with much better pay and they don’t travel as much or as far as they used to.

But Clear doesn’t mind.

Aoba is still Aoba.

He’s still ticklish and laughs when Clear’s hands run over the bare skin of his waist. He still looks at Clear like he’s beautiful, still kisses the two moles below his mouth instead of his lips sometimes. He still sinks his teeth into the junction of Clear’s neck and shoulder when he’s being teasing in bed, winding Aoba up and then cooling him down, laughing against his heated skin because he’s so pleased with Aoba’s reactions. Aoba is still with him and that is what matters. Right?

But somehow Clear blinks and Aoba is fifty. He’s graying at the temples and the lines around his mouth and eyes are a constant now, but he still lets clear hold his hand when they walk, although he looks a bit more uncomfortable than he did a few years back when people stare at them. They go to a cafe that Aoba frequents quite often, and the barista perks up when she sees them, chats with Aoba a bit and then turns to Clear.

"Your father is one of my favorite customers," she says in a loud, conspiratorial whisper, and for a moment Clear doesn’t know what she means. But then he sees the sick look on Aoba’s face and realizes that she thinks Aoba is his father. He wants to disagree with her. He wants to tell her that Aoba is his partner. His lover. Aoba is his. But then Aoba just looks at him and shakes his head minutely and Clear turns back to the woman with a fake smile and thanks her for taking care of Aoba so much. They sip their coffee in silence until Clear nudges his boot against Aoba’s leg under the table and smiles at him when he looks up, tilting his head to the side.

_We knew this would happen_ , he wants to say, _we planned for this, we talked about this._

But in the end it doesn’t really compare to how shockingly awful it feels to realize that time is slipping away from them. And now it just feels like the promise they made when they were both young, the promise to spend the time they had together until it ran out, seemed prettier before it was put into practice. But Aoba still reaches his hand across the table and Clear still threads their fingers together, so they’re not out of time just yet.

When Aoba retires they start traveling again. He’s fairly well off now. They go to the ocean and everything is so bright and lovely, but Clear tells Aoba he’s still more beautiful. Aoba looks at him with some unspeakable emotion in his eyes.

Aoba is sixty-eight years old now and his hair is almost completely white. His face is lined and tired though his eyes are still sharp and sometimes Clear looks at him and feels so sad and hopeless that he wants to hold him and cry, as though that would keep time from taking him away.

They go to Greece and Clear insists on taking stereotypical tourist pictures and Aoba just laughs and laughs and laughs. Clear tries to commit the sound of it to memory.

Aoba is eighty four years old and laying in bed, humming along slowly to music as he reads while Clear lays in his lap when Clear feels in his heart that Aoba is not going to wake up the next morning. It is such a heavy, horrifying feeling, and Clear doesn’t know how he knows, but he does. Maybe it’s something in the sound of Aoba’s heartbeat which is resounding in his ears, but he knows. He sits up, looking Aoba in the face, and Aoba sets down his book and smiles gently.

"I love you, Aoba." Clear says seriously, and Aoba looks a bit surprised.

"What brought this on?" He asks, but Clear just shakes his head and tells Aoba he loves him again. He kisses his cheeks and his forehead and Aoba laughs and it sounds softer and more breathy than usual and Clear wants to cry. But he doesn’t. "I love you too." He replies finally, and Clear sighs shakily.

"Can I sing you to sleep?" Clear asks. His voice breaks on the last word, and Aoba seems like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t. He just nods, sets his book down and turns off the light, and Clear nestles against his back and presses his face to the nape of Aoba’s neck.

And then he sings.

He sings until Aoba is asleep and then keeps singing. He sings until he can’t hear Aoba’s heart anymore and then he sings louder to drown out the silence. He sings until tears are pouring down his face and he can’t hear or see or feel anything. He sings until his voice cuts out and then he just holds Aoba’s body and cries until he can’t cry anymore.

When the sun comes up he climbs out of bed and walks around to see Aoba’s face. His lips and skin are pale, but otherwise he could just be sleeping. Clear tries to pretend he can hear Aoba’s heartbeat, but he can’t hear anything but birds chirping and leaves rustling and wind whipping against the windows.

"Goodnight, Aoba," Clear murmurs, reaching out to hold his hand, "I wish I could go to sleep with you." That’s what he wants. More than anything that’s what he wants. He wants it so desperately he can almost feel it crushing him, willing him to just climb back into bed and turn off forever.

But he made a promise.

Promises always seem more beautiful when they’re new. Radiant and vibrating with life and potential.

But even tarnished and sad and aching, Clear kept his promises. He kissed Aoba’s hand and then left, softly shutting the door to the only home he had ever known behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm actually extremely sorry for this. I've just been thinking about it and it's been nagging at me. these two are just so horribly tragic and I've fallen for them completely. Why did I do this to myself oh my god. but anyway I hope you enjoyed the fic and there will be more works for this fandom to come which will hopefully be much less depressing so stay tuned! ヽ( ゜∇゜)ノ


End file.
